


Better to Daydream

by youfunkylittlegays



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Flirting, Fluff, Implied sprace, Jack is Tired, M/M, Reunion, based off a buzzfeed video, davey is trying, kinda OOC, race is a good friend, spot's mentioned, they were all friends in college
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 00:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youfunkylittlegays/pseuds/youfunkylittlegays
Summary: Jack meets David at a bar after they haven't seen each other since college. Long story short: Davey is trying to flirt, Race is a good friend, and Jack can't, "date a hot guy, Race!"





	Better to Daydream

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fic so please be kind. It was really REALLY closely based off of this buzzfeed video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QmNdHFJ3LQo. Any constructive criticism or comments would be great. Also, say hello on tumblr at tight-knit-mormon-hell-dream. Anyway, thanks for reading! Enjoy!

"Race! Racetrack help! I think I'm dying! Like, I'm having a heart attack right now!" Jack shouted weakly from his position lying face-down on the living room floor. A jumble of panicked footsteps could be heard from the kitchen as well as the running of a faucet. More panicked footsteps, and suddenly Race was crouched down next to him with a glass of water in hand. 

"Okay, uh... Shit well." Race turned Jack so that he was lying on his side in recovery position. "Uh.. Here, hold my hand. Do you want water?" he asked, picking up Jack's hand. Jack shook his head. 

"No, I'll probably throw it up if I have any," he said breathlessly. Race set the glass down and pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

"Well, do you want me to call 911? Do you need an ambulance?" Once again, Jack shook his head, only this time with more vigor. 

"NO! God no, I don't have health insurance." Race nodded in understanding, muttering about how it's so expensive just to live in this fucking country. 

"Ok well, breathe with me and think of all the things we have to live for. We have all those packs of cookies from Trader Joe's that we haven't tried and the Tony's are coming up soon and sex. If you die, you don't get to have sex," Race reminded Jack. 

"TV and sex, TV and sex, TV and sex," Jack muttered for a few moments. Race peered down at him. "Do you feel any better?" he asked. Jack nodded, and Race pulled him to his feet. 

"Yeah, I think I'm good to go. Bye," he said quickly before attempting to grab his keys and wallet. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Race used his hold on Jack's hand to pull him down on the couch. "No Jack! Not so fast! You almost died! You can't just leave after that! We are going to talk about this," he said decisively. "Here, drink some water and relax." Jack grimaced slightly before taking the water and allowing himself to sink into the couch. 

"Alright, a sit and a sip. Classic." 

"Yeah, and let's talk about what just happened." 

"Well, I thought I was dying," said Jack, sipping from his glass. Race nodded seriously. 

"Yeah but like, what do you think brought that on?" He asked. Jack looked down and took a deep breath before speaking. 

"Remember, that guy we were friends with in college? Davey?" Race grinned. 

"Oh yeah, the one you had a crush on and never shut up about! Hot Davey?" He said, elbowing Jack teasingly. 

"Yeah, Hot Davey," Jack confirmed, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, I hadn't seen him in a while, and I saw him at a bar in Queens earlier tonight and-" 

_   
Jack was sitting at the bar by himself after a long day of work. All he wanted to do was get a couple drinks then head home. A man walked toward him and settled on the stool next to him before ordering a drink. Jack paid him no mind as he quietly nursed his beer. The man glanced over at Jack then grinned at him in recognition. 

"Hey, um, Jack Kelly?" He said with a bit of uncertainty. Jack turned to look at him and soon became slack-jawed when he saw that it was none other than David Jacobs sitting beside him. David looked good. Well, he had always looked good, but wow, this was quite the refresher. How could eyes that blue even be real? How could legs be that long? How could hair be that curly? Of course, it was quite likely that little had changed about Davey physically and the only thing that was different was his confidence. He seemed like he had grown into himself a bit more. In college, Davey had seemed a little awkward in a gangly, baby deer sort of way, but Jack had always thought that it worked for him. It was cute. But now, it seemed that David had embraced his height and unruly hair with something that was between confidence and begrudging acceptance, and that worked for him just as well. Jack smiled back at him in surprise, suddenly regretting going to a bar in studio clothes. 

"Oh my god, hey Davey. Long time, no see," Jack replied. He stood up from his chair to give Dave a hug with a clap in the back. David laughed. "God, it's been so long. What's up?" 

"Not much, not much. How are you?" asked David, sitting back down. 

"Good; busy, but good. How um, how are you?" Jack cursed himself for stuttering. 

"I'm good. I mean, I'm just happy you're here," replied David. Is that flirting? Was David trying to flirt with him? Jack couldn't be sure. It felt like flirting. 

"Same, but I just wish that I had uh, worn something different," Jack said, gesturing to his paint-stained sweatpants and equally stained t-shirt. David smiled and shook his head. 

"No, you look great. I mean, um, everything you owned when we were in school was also had paint on it, so I'm really not surprised," said David, gently reaching over to brush the streak of yellow on Jack's sleeve. Jack blushed and looked down. David quickly retracted his hand. 

"Price of being an artist, I guess," Jack quipped. David gave a small chuckle. "I just feel like you kind a have to go the extra mile if you're going to flirt with guys in New York, you know?" 

"I'm sure guys flirt with you all the time," replied Davey. Jack snorted, laughing at this impossible statement. David looked on, a little worried, afraid he'd said something wrong. 

"Uhh, literally never, that happens never," Jack said. 

"But you're um, well.." started David, searching for the right word to describe Jack. Jack held his gaze. 

"I'm?" he encouraged, taking a sip of his beer. David hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"Well, you're hot," he choked out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Jack choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering. "Are you ok?" David asked. Jack caught his breath and laughed a little bit to himself. 

"Wha- um what did you just say? What did you mean to say?" Jack questioned, taking another sip. 

"Uh, you're hot?" David repeated. Jack felt himself blush. He looked down at the bottle in his hands. "I mean, guys would literally be stupid not to flirt with you." Jack's jaw dropped. 

"Oka-" and so did his beer. Glass scattered along the floor, and alcohol spilled onto David and Jack's shoes. Both "Shit! Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Um, god, wow." He stared stupidly at the shards on the floor. 

"Oh no worries, I'll buy you another one. I was going to buy you one anyways," David offered. Jack looked up, once again struck dumb. He dropped his drink, but David was still interested? Maybe he had a thing for klutzes with paint all over their clothes who will always find a way to make a mess before they can even finish one full conversation. Of course, if this Davey was anything like the Davey Jack knew in college, then he was probably finding a way to make it his own fault. 

"No that's okay. You don't have to do tha-" 

"No, I want to. Like I said, I was going to get you another one anyways," David said. Jack remained puzzled. 

"Why?" he asked. David gave him a gentle smile. 

"Because I'm flirting with you," he stated bluntly. Jack eyed David with befuddlement, still not quite understanding. 

"Why?" Jack questioned slowly. David was now confused as well. After all, isn't there only one reason to flirt with someone? 

"Because I like you?" he said as if it were incredibly clear. 

"Is this a dream?" Jack whispered to himself, reaching out to touch Davey and make sure that he was real. 

"No, it's not a dream," David answered softly. Jack rested his hand on his arm, opening his mouth slightly in surprise when he felt the muscle there. Dave wasn't exactly built, but he certainly was fit. 

"Oh my god." Jack patted David's arm again. "I-I gotta go," he said, rising from his chair. 

"What? Why?" Davey asked, baffled. 

Jack stood careful to avoid the glass and letting out a shaky, "Yeah," as he left. 

_ 

"Wow," said Race in astonishment. He nodded quietly to himself, taking in Jack's story. 

"Yeah," Jack answered. His voice was filled with regret. 

"And then you came here directly after that?" Race asked. 

"Well, not exactly right after. First, I-" 

_ 

Jack ran down the street at full speed. His heart was pounding out of his chest, and the world seemed to just be a giant blur. He slowed as he reached a man smoking a cigarette. Quickly, he snatched the it from the man's mouth and put it in his own. He shouted a muffled thank you as he took off again toward his and Race's apartment. 

_ 

Race took a deep breath. "Okay... so we're stealing strangers' cigarettes now." Jack shrugged. 

"I thought I was dying, so I was like alright, might as well." Race scrunched up his face, wordlessly communicating that that was no excuse 

"So Davey, he's nice, right?" Race asked. Jack grinned. 

"Really nice. Super nice. One of the nicest people I've ever met in my life," he replied. 

"And he thinks you're hot!" Race exclaimed. "This is great! This is an ideal situation. There's literally no bad thing happening here." Jack shook his head. 

"Nope, not even close to ideal. I can't date a hot guy, Race." Jack explained petulantly. "He's a ten. I like- I like six's at best. He's completely out of my league!" Race shook his head. 

"David Jacobs is not a ten. He is an eight at best. And even if he was a ten, you would be fine if you dated him. Spot is a ten, and he and I work out fine. He's way out of my league, and we've been together for months. You have no excuse. I mean, sure you might want to marry a safe six, but you can go on one date with a ten," Race reasoned, leaning farther back on the couch. 

"No, no, I can't. He's far too hot," Jack said. 

"Jack. 

"Nope, can't date someone that hot. Absolutely not." 

"Jack." 

"It's just, sometimes, it's nicer to just daydream about things then to actually experience them," Jack explained quickly. Race scoffed quietly. 

"Damn." 

"Oh, that sounded sad, didn't it?" asked Jack. Race nodded. 

"Yeah, it sounded pretty sad. Actually, it sounded really sad," he pointed out. "Jack, sometimes, you just got to go for it and fuck everything else." Jack sighed, throwing himself across Race. "You still have his number, don't you?" Jank nodded into Race's leg. "Text him. Say you weren't feeling well tonight, and that's why you were acting weird, and that you'd like to get a drink sometime." Seconds passed, before Jack finally sat up. 

"Okay, okay! I'll do it." 

"That's the spirit. I bet you five bucks that he texts you back in the next five minutes," Race said, getting up from the couch and tossing Jack his phone. Jack smiled. 

"You're on. He'll take ten minutes at least," he said before spitting into his hand and holding it out to Race. Race followed suit, shaking on it. Three minutes later, Jack owed Race five dollars, and he owed David Jacobs a date.


End file.
